The first thing to say about the 1369 Jazz Club is that the music was terrific; a lot of hits and not many misses. The second thing is, it felt right—it was an honest-to-god jazz joint. Third thing, its closing seriously diminished the local jazz scene. “I’m not keen on ‘Best and Worst,’ wrote Fernando Gonzalez of the Globe in his 1988 year-end wrap-up, “but the closing of the 1369 Jazz Club in Cambridge easily qualifies as one of the worst events of the year.”

Flyer 1369 Jazz Club, June 1987, Jay Brandford Septet

Flyer for Jay Brandford Septet at the 1369 Jazz Club, June 1987; map shows club’s approximate location.

A bit of introduction to this well-remembered place: The club was at 1369 Cambridge Street, in Inman Square, on the corner of Springfield Street. It first opened in January 1976, and closed in August 1988. It presented live music nightly for 13 years, and built an ironclad relationship with the local jazz community in the process. During its last five years, under the management of Jay Hoffman, Bob Pollak and Dennis Steiner, the 1369 was the finest jazz club in the Boston area.

All this music happened in quite modest surroundings. The 1369 Jazz Club didn’t look like much from the street, just a corner bar housed in a building dating back to the 1910s. There wasn’t anything fancy about it inside, either. Bar to the right, tables to the left, stage at the back, with the rest room behind it. Sometimes patrons had to squeeze around musicians while they played in order to use it. The white tile wall behind the bar had a gouge in it, left when a customer threw a bottle at a bartender, but missed. It was smoky. It got crowded. It was sinned-in. Gonzalez again: “It was just a great place to hear music.”

So let us explore the 1369’s story, especially those last five years, the ones Gonzalez mourned as they passed. (Quotes following are from my conversations with Hoffman, Pollak, and Steiner.)

Inman Square: Jazz on the Cambridge Frontier

There wasn’t much happening on Inman Square when brothers John and Rick Merrigan bought the Gaslight Pub in January 1976, and renamed it the 1369 Jazz Club. Inman Square was, literally, the low-rent district when compared to Harvard Square, or any entertainment district in Boston. There wasn’t much music around then, either. Their only musical neighbor was the rock-oriented Inn-Square Men’s Bar, although a friendly competitor, Ryles, would open in November. A well-known blues club, Joe’s Place, had burned down in 1974.

The Gaslight Pub had a reputation as a brawlers’ bar—a bucket of blood—with furnishings and atmosphere befitting a neighborhood dive. And small, too, with seating for only about 75, minus any chairs broken during a fight. Nonetheless, the Merrigans began staging jazz seven nights a week.

The early 1369’s best-known attraction was trumpeter Paul Fontaine, an accomplished 20-year veteran of the jazz scene, both in Boston and on the road. Among the other regulars were throwback bop saxophonist Lester Parker; Elegua, one of the area’s first Latin jazz bands; Ken Pullig’s little big band Decahedron; Search, saxophonist Arni Cheatham’s group; Con Brio with saxophonist Jerry Bergonzi and bassist Bruce Gertz; and vocalist Semenya McCord with saxophonist Stan Strickland. A generation of Boston jazzers paid dues there, with an audience thankfully more interested in listening than throwing punches.

Tenor saxophonist Jay Hoffman was in another band in the regular rotation, Animation. But Animation folded, and its drummer, Grover Mooney, formed his own band, Moon Unit. Mooney, a big bear of a man known for his unpredictable behavior, was part of the 1369 from its earliest days, playing first with saxophonist Len Detlor, then with Animation. (Mooney’s longtime friend, pianist Fred Hersch, likened his playing to that of Elvin Jones.) Listening to Moon Unit were part-time bartender Bob Pollak and club regular Dennis Steiner. They’d talk about how they wished the club could present some of the cutting-edge bands from New York.

The Merrigan brothers sold the 1369 in September 1981 to a trio of investors with ties to the financial industry. They renamed it Springfield’s Jazz Club, and during their two-year tenure, they continued with local jazz nightly. Among their frequent performers were Moon Unit, vocalist Alida Rohr, the fusion group Fly By Night, and Warren Senders’s group Antigravity. Mondays became Latin jazz night, and Tropical, the group lead by bassoonist Janet Grice, often filled that slot. The Fringe, not yet a Boston jazz institution, began a Tuesday-night residency at Springfield’s, although after a few months they moved to a different club.

In autumn 1983, Grover Mooney played matchmaker. He knew Bob Pollak was bored with his day job as a computer consultant, and that Jay Hoffman, then living in New York, was bored playing weddings every weekend. Hoffman mentioned to Mooney how he’d like to own a club like the old 1369. Mooney got Pollak and Hoffman together and stirred the pot.

The Return of the 1369 Jazz Club

A deal came together quickly. Hoffman told me, “Yeah, We bought it. I can’t remember what we actually paid for the place. Maybe $40,000. The club, the booze, the entertainment license, everything. We got the liquor license transferred. Then we were in there! I was definitely overwhelmed at first when we bought the place.”

Flyer for Claudio Roditi at 1369 Jazz Club

Claudio Roditi with Victor Mendoza at the 1369, June 1986

Their first move was to invite Dennis Steiner in as a partner. Steiner had the pulse of the current jazz scene, and he seemed to know every musician living in, or passing through, Boston. “Jay and Bob had ideas,” he said, “But I already knew musicians who were playing, who were moving forward—people we could tap into to get something started.”

While the musical direction took shape, though, the new owners had to straighten out the business, too. Theft was a problem. One bartender was selling beer to neighborhood teenagers out of the club’s delivery door. Overly generous bartenders were literally giving away the store. Hoffman asked someone look at the books. The report: “With all the Old Thompson (a whiskey) you’re going through, you should be making a heck of a lot more money.” And it wasn’t just liquor, said Hoffman. “I caught two guys siphoning fuel oil from our tank in the basement. They were selling it.”

Then there was the club’s non-jazz clientele. This was, after all, a well-established neighborhood bar, and although the music had dispersed the evening regulars, the daytime drinkers continued undeterred. They could easily have filled the cast of a reality TV show called “Dive Bar.” Said Pollak: “The day crowd was more than just retirees and blue-collar guys stopping in after work. We had serious alcoholics, and people with medical issues, mental health issues. Oh, and bookies.” They’d tie up the phone, and were told to knock it off. “But Jay, I gotta make a living!” complained one.

The real problems, though, came after midnight. Said Pollak: “There were a lot of fights. Younger guys wanting to start something, we’d see them late. There would be battles at one in the morning.” And it could get ugly. Said Steiner, “Some Somerville guys, maybe with fake IDs, they’d come in late, at about one—we were open until two—and start some mayhem, harass people, do anything. We had a Black group playing one night, Wannetta Jackson’s, and these guys started yelling slurs, racist stuff. I kicked them out, and told them they weren’t coming back.” But that wasn’t the end of it. Said Pollak: “They pulled him out to the street and beat him up. Swollen eye, bruised ribs, maybe a broken rib. Dennis ended up going over to the hospital.”

For years, the Gaslight Pub had been nothing more than a neighborhood bar with an insular clientele, and the arrival of jazz changed it. But the old regulars didn’t go gently. It’s easy to romanticize the clubs of yore as idyllic jazz havens. But even idylls can sometimes be interrupted by moments of intolerance and sudden violence.

A Week in the Life of the 1369

Once the new 1369 got rolling, it developed a set weekly schedule. The jazz jam session happened on Monday, with saxophonist Jay Hoffman presiding and Grover Mooney anchoring the house band. Thursday became blues night, most often with Silas Hubbard Jr and his band, the Hot Ribs. Sunday featured a double-header, with Silas Hubbard leading a blues jam in the afternoon, and drummer Bunny Smith’s group closing at night. Mooney, Hubbard and Smith became part of the fabric of the place.

The 1369 Jazz Club needed blues music to stay financially healthy, and the man who brought the most blues was Mississippi-born singer and bassist Silas Hubbard Jr. He brought a whole new audience to the club on Thursday nights. Then, said Steiner, “We asked Silas if he wanted to run the blues jam. That was a Sunday afternoon gig that eventually ran from one to eight. And I couldn’t believe it, we’d have a line down the street. It was a mob scene.” And he added this: “The blues crowd were drinkers, and the jazz crowd wasn’t, so every Sunday we’d have a good day. It’s how we paid for some of the jazz things that wouldn’t have made money.”

Photo of Bunny Smith standing against a wall, about 1987.

Bunny Smith in about 1987

Joseph “Bunny” Smith, another bandleader with a popular following, led the Sunday night session after the blues crowd cleared out. Smith, who came to Boston in 1971, worked construction by day and played jazz by night. He lead the house band at Wally’s for four years—Hoffman first played with him there in the early seventies. Smith later hosted weekly sessions at the Plough and Stars in Cambridge. He was a good drummer but a better entertainer, a personable crowd pleaser. Sometimes he’d turn the band over to his longtime pianist John Alaimo and table-hop.

The other four nights were strictly for jazz. The club drew on the local musicians at first—singers Wannetta Jackson and Mili Bermejo, drummer Herbie King, and saxophonists Stan Strickland and Jerry Bergonzi. In April 1984 they booked their first out-of-town artist, saxophonist Clifford Jordan, and a steady stream soon followed. It was customary for the New Yorkers to work as singles, with the house supplying the sidemen. And they knew a lot of musicians—the owners always knew who to call. And they could hear even more musicians at the weekly jam session.

Even with music seven nights a week, the club added more in early 1987. They started late-afternoon blues sets with guitarist Butch McClendon (“Blues by Butch”), slide guitarist Ken Holladay, pianist David Maxwell, and Washboard Robbie Phillips. There was Irish jazz on Mondays with violinist Matt Glaser’s group, Smash the Windows. And besides all of this, there was a four-hour ska/rock set on Saturday afternoons with the Shy Five. By the end of 1987, the 1369 was producing an amazing 49 hours a week of music. And though the sounds were diverse, it always came back to jazz.

Musical Riches at the 1369 Jazz Club

There was a wide variety to the 1369’s bookings—flavors included hard hard bop, post-bop, free jazz, fusion, and a spectrum of vocalists. Certainly, there were top-tier artists the club could not afford, and the owners showed little interest in booking established mainstream stylists. But that left an enormous cohort of innovative artists who could play.

So who did play? Rather than produce a mind-numbing number of names, I’ll offer a short list—and perhaps reader comments will supplement it.

  • Jazz adventurers—Henry Threadgill, Jim Pepper, George Adams and Don Pullen, Joe Lovano, Julius Hemphill, Dave Holland, Willem Breuker.
  • Young lions—Kenny Garrett, Branford Marsalis, Terri Lyne Carrington, Christopher Hollyday, Ricky Ford.
  • A hard bop backbone—Barry Harris, Johnny Griffin, Clifford Jordan, Bill Hardman and Junior Cook, George Cables.
  • Innovative duos—Andrew Cyrille and Chico Freeman, Hamiet Bluiett and Alan Dawson, Steve Lacy and Roscoe Mitchell, Joanne Brackeen and Cecil McBee.
  • Regular employment for local combos—Katy Roberts, Jay Brandford, Wannetta Jackson, Randy Roos, Orange Then Blue, Mordy Ferber, Rachel Nicolazzo (Rachel Z), Rob Scheps; Blue Thursdays with Chris Stovall Brown, the Screaming Coyotes, and Shirley Lewis.
Window card for Jaki Byard in a solo piano concert, Oct 30, 1985 at the 1369 Jazz Club

Window card for Jaki Byard at the 1369 Jazz Club, Oct 1985

Building around themes and concepts lead to a number of multi-night series:

  • Art Blakey Revisited in May and June 1986, with ex-Messengers Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison, Wallace Roney, and Mulgrew Miller. The Boston contingent of ex-Messengers—Bill Pierce, Donald Brown, John Ramsay—worked as sidemen.
  • A Solo Piano Concert series in October 1986 included Ronnie Mathews, Jaki Byard, Fred Hersch, Kenny Werner, and Marilyn Crispell.
  • For a four-night Tribute to Alan Dawson in March 1987, Dawson picked the artists with whom he wanted to play. He chose Barry Harris, Gary Bartz, Kenny Burrell, and the twin tenors of Bill Pierce and Andy McGhee.
  • Hammond-B3 Organ Week in April 1987 went all-in on soul jazz, with Trudy Pitts, Don Patterson, Lonnie Smith, Charles Earland, and Jack McDuff.

Consider a three-week period in July 1985. That month, the club featured a Harvie S/Mike Stern/Alan Dawson trio (the Going for It sessions); a Paul Motian/Joe Lovano/Bill Frisell trio; Nick Brignola, Branford Marsalis, and Leni Stern leading quartets; and local groups lead by Rebecca Parris and Rachel Nicolazzo. Then over three weeks in late August and early September, the club came back with the Lee Konitz-Harold Danko quartet; the Katy Roberts trio with John Lockwood and Billy Hart; the Jack McDuff Quartet; a landmark Steve Lacy/Roscoe Mitchell duo; a Joanne Brackeen/Eddie Gomez duo; and the Archie Shepp Quartet.

That was mid-1985, and already by that time the musicians were calling the club, asking for a date to play.

The Magic at Work

Musicians were devoted to the 1369 because of the importance, if not reverence, the owners placed on the music and the musicians. What was right for them generally dictated the way things would go. Jon Garelick, writing in the Phoenix at the time of the club’s closing, quoted Grover Mooney: “With musicians and club owners, it’s always you against them—always. But with Bob and Jay and Dennis, it’s like they’re one of us.”

Added Steiner, “We took very good care of them when they were here, offered them a great playing room and a great audience. Musicians have to think about money, but they also have to think about how they feel and how they’re treated.”

It was a comfortable place to listen to music, too. Garelick quoted a club bartender: “It was a neutral zone for everybody—wackos, serious people, anyone who just wanted to hear some music and not be bothered by anything. The 1369 is the only bar I know where a biker could order a Perrier and get it and it wouldn’t be a joke.”

I’m sure those readers who remember Globe columnist George Frazier will agree if say the 1369 had duende. The Regattabar, in comparison, didn’t (and doesn’t).

Said Pollak: “We didn’t do it to make a lot of money. We never expected it was going to make a lot of money. We did it from our heart.”

And Then It Ended

The 1369 Jazz Club had a formula that worked: committed ownership, the right mix of music, a loyal and knowledgeable clientele. And then it was gone.

It came down to a landlord/tenant dispute. The club never had a lease, and for four frustrating years the owners negotiated with the building owner, Mary Burns, to sign one. Not only did she say no, she evicted them. The club stalled the eviction but couldn’t prevent it, and in July 1988 a judge finally ordered the club to vacate 1369 Cambridge Street on August 15. Said Hoffman: “We wanted to stay. It wasn’t about the rent, we would have paid it. She just didn’t want a bar there anymore. And she didn’t want us there anymore.”

A search for a new location did not pan out, and so the club closed with one last weekend with Grover Mooney, Silas Hubbard Jr, and Bunny Smith on the bandstand as always. But in some ways the owners were ready for it. No matter how rewarding the experience had been, after five years of high-pressure living, Hoffman, Pollak, and Steiner were burned out. They went their separate ways, and none ever operated a bar or nightclub again.

Postscript: 1369, the Movie

Over a three-year period, from 1985 to the club’s closing in 1988, documentary filmmaker Richard Broadman filmed interviews and performances at the 1369 Jazz Club. Broadman spoke with Hoffman, Pollak, and Steiner (who actually produced the film), as well as club stalwarts like Grover Mooney and Bunny Smith, and diverse personalities including Joe Lovano, Andrew Cyrille, and Archie Shepp. The resulting film, A Place for Jazz, made its debut in 1991 at the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge. All judged it a success. But the film became mired in the legal intricacies of licensing, which were still unresolved when Broadman died in January 2000. A Place for Jazz never had an official release, and it remains in limbo still, in 2024. It is our great loss that the work of Broadman, associate director Michael Haggerty, and cameraman John Bishop remains unavailable and unseen.

Another Postscript: How to View the Movie

Bob Pollak emailed to let me know that A Place for Jazz can be viewed online. You can view it on Vimeo, but when I logged into my account on that platform, I couldn’t find it. However if you google for “A Place For Jazz” vimeo — be sure to quote the title — you should find it. Also, you can link to the film from the Facebook page, A Place For Jazz. It might take a minute for the Vimeo link to sync up on Facebook.